Water Lily
by ladymouse25
Summary: Bran is forced to marry a princess who can not even step outside. But before he can make it to the alter the witch catches up with him. A cross between The Frog Prince and another familiar fairy tale. A stand alone sequel to my story The Rose Bush.
1. Chapter 1

Water Lily

By: LadyMouse25

((This is a sequel to my story The Rose Bush. I've done my best to write it in a way that you wouldn't have to read the other story first, but also not bore those who had. If you still find yourself confused though, I'm sorry and try reading The Rose Bush first or go ahead and ask me any questions you like. That should clear it up :) ))

Bran knew the moment the spell had been broken. An icy chill washed over him that had nothing to do with the weather. It was only a matter of time now before the witch sought him out and made him pay his dues.

He had been the foolish one to send his friend, Ian Andrews, to accept the curse for him after stealing the coins. But he was a prince! It was his responsibility to watch over the kingdom and how could he do that when the witch would do...whatever she would do! The kingdom had suffered enough mishandle by incompetent rulers, namely his father, he was trying not to encourage them to revolt. A curse on the royal family would most certainly start a revolution!

He needed to find a wife and quickly before the witch found him. Fleeing to the safety of his study Bran poured himself over all the notes his mother had took about the ladies of the kingdom. Surely there was one he could fall in love with. Someone who would make Clara leaves his thoughts.

* * *

Months had gone by and despite all his attempts at falling in love with the near army of ladies he had met, Bran was no closer to getting engaged than he had been the day the spell had been broken. Even his attempts at winning Clara back in the beginning had gone no where. And now word was that Ian was back. The single woman he had fallen in love with and the one who still was in his dreams every night was choosing someone else. Fate certainly had a twisted sense of humor.

Suddenly the gardens he had been pacing in, trying to find the peace the stillness out there had always given, felt cramped and tight. He felt as if the flowers were pressing in on him and he found himself anxiously glancing around at the bushes and up into the trees expecting the witch to jump out at any moment.

His long, leanly muscled legs made long strides back to the castle door. Stone walls wouldn't keep her out either, but at least he felt more protected inside than out.

"Your highness! Your father is in the map room with the King of the Marshlands, he insists on your presence immediately." No sooner had Bran stepped inside than Duncan had miraculously just found him. Duncan was a friend first and foremost to Bran and a servant second. He couldn't remember when the young man had started working for his family, but he did remember the keen way Duncan had read his thoughts and managed to keep everyone at bay and allow Bran time to his thoughts ever since Ian had knocked on the witch's door.

Bran shook his head. "No."

After such a definitive word that went against the King's wishes most servants would fret about and stutter around and try to convince him to do otherwise. Not Duncan. The brown eyed man with tousled dark hair that went against every other servant's perfectly combed one simply stared at him with a raised eyebrow. "Ah. Well, I can't blame you. There is a certain stench surrounding the Scum King. It smells like...well...scum."

A smirk twisted Bran's lips. "One of these days, Dun, you're going to lose your head saying things like that."

Duncan shrugged not looking at all worried about the possibility. He had a pretty face though and there was bound to be a number of women would faint at the very same possibility just for the simple fact they wouldn't be able to look at it any more.

Bran sighed as his inner conscience kicked in. No one could ever doubt Bran's sense of duty towards the kingdom and how he did the very best for it, but Duncan always seemed to witness when his friend was weary enough to start fighting with it. "What is he here for anyway?"

"His daughter."

Bran could only remember a small ten year old girl with mousy brown hair and freckles all over her face. "For Marigold?"

Dun shook his head. "The elder one. Lilyann."

The small girl had always seemed to tag along with her father traveling, but Bran couldn't remember the older girl at all. He supposed he had heard of her, had probably seen her, but-

"Lilyann is struck with a certain affliction." Duncan had trouble keeping a straight face and eventually a bemused smirk lit it up. "She can't step outside her home. She is afraid of the vastness of the sky. Clouds may fall and crush her. The sun may drop like a rock on her head."

Brandon stared at his friend for a few long moments trying to judge the truth in his words before he laughed. "You can't be serious. She never goes outside?" When Duncan shook his head, Bran laughed louder. The girl was mad! And her father was here, no doubt trying to arrange a marriage.

"She'd be perfect for you Bran. When you fight and you go to the gardens for peace, she won't be able to follow you! The only time you'll have to deal with her is inside."

"Yes and your job will be easier for it." Bran shook his head. "I need to find a wife but I don't need one who is a few feathers short of being a chicken."

"Will you ever tell me why you are in such a desperate state to find a wife all of a sudden?" Duncan leaned back on his heels and cross his arms over his chest. "I will admit Clara seemed to be a good choice, but really, Bran. Why do you want some woman over your shoulder, demanding the world? They are nothing but a nuisance."

Bran didn't point out that the only reason Duncan found them to be a nuisance was because he put every girl he winked at against each other, each vying for his attention. Duncan led them on for a time until he got bored and started to ignore them. He played with them and made fools of them. And one day Bran didn't doubt it would come back to bite him. "It's time I found a wife. The kingdom needs a celebration, what better way than a marriage?"

It was a good enough excuse. A marriage would bring the kingdom together, but that wasn't the main reason. He needed to fall in love before the witch had a chance to cast her spell and now he knew time was running out. Love had broken Ian's curse. Love would surely prevent his own.

Duncan didn't seem all that convinced by Bran's excuse but he didn't push it any more. "So what would you like me to tell them? You'd rather a butterfly princess than the frog princess?"

Bran sent his friend a look and shook his head. "I'll go." He sighed and started walking past his friend. "We may need scum one day."

* * *

"Bran, the offer Lester is giving is considerable. Think of the kingdom." His father had pulled him aside and out of ear shot of the Scum King. "We'd have more than enough to jump start the towns prosperity. And when Lester passes our Kingdoms will become one!"

"Perfect, father. I'll have miles and miles of ponds, swamp, and toads at my disposal."

"Bran! Lester is urgent in finding her a wife, much like you seem to be these days. He is willing to give you more than what any other kingdom will and his daughter is apparently quite beautiful-"

Bran stared at his father knowing well he had married his mother on much the same principles. "Did you know she doesn't leave the castle? She's afraid of the sky falling on her!"

The older man considered that a moment. "There are worse things."

"Father!"

"Bran. Arranged marriages are common in our position. Your mother and I tried letting you make that choice but we all know how that ended-"

"Yes, thank you for rubbing that in-" Clara had accepted his offer of marriage and shortly thereafter ran off to Ian. Although Bran didn't keep many ill feelings toward her. He had, after all, initially invited her to the palace to get her away from Ian and breaking the curse on Ian. Which Ian had received when Bran hadn't accepted the consequence for stealing the witch's coins...

"Bran! If you truly want what is best for the kingdom you will accept this offer!" His father turned away then and left, ending the conversation in exactly the position that he knew would grate on his son's conscience.

Bran's whole life revolved around on what was best for the kingdom. It consumed his entire being and every waking moment. It was his duty to turn around the shambles his father's own actions had created early in his rule. His father had no idea about the situation Bran found himself in, running from a curse, but even if he did it wouldn't change much. Everything was for the kingdom and that would include staging a death to avoid any more infamy.

Love had broken Ian's curse. Love is what Bran assumed would keep him from his own. But could he love someone who couldn't bear to take a step outside? Someone so unstable didn't sound all that loveable to him. But there was the money to consider.

Sighing he followed the path his father took to the King of Scum. When he looked up into the mossy green eyes of a man who looked more at war with himself than even his own father at his worst seemed Bran mustered a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I am humbled you would offer the hand of your daughter and most graciously accept. I can not wait to meet such a intriguing lady." Intriguing was certainly one way to put it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Prince of Scum." Duncan leaned casually against the wall as Bran slipped into a dark green velvet coat. "You know, I think it suits you."

"You're going to be Duncan the Decapitated pretty soon if you don't knock it off." Buttoning the coat Bran turned and took a look at himself. He wasn't overly done as usual, but he looked respectable enough to meet his future wife. Future as in tomorrow. King Lester had been quite adamant that they have the wedding as soon as possible. Bran didn't want to really think about how much money the Scum King had spent in his effort to prepare a wedding so quickly. That money would have done so much for his kingdom instead of a silly wedding.

"Frog Prince has a certain ring to it as well." Forgetting the mirror Bran grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and hurled it at Dun who caught it with a grin. "So where are you taking our mad lady?" Dun tossed the pillow onto the bed and turned towards the window hearing a commotion outside.

"I suppose the library. What else can one do inside all day? I'm assuming she likes to read..." Moving to his dresser Bran looked at the ring Clara had returned to him. The simple gold band and solitary diamond. Clara hadn't liked the fanciness that society's wealth brought so he had commissioned the simple ring. Now he just didn't want to spend money on a wife he didn't want or love.

"Come take a look at this, Bran." Duncan was fully turned toward the window now, his face completely lit up in amusement and considering there wasn't another mocking jest it must mean his friend was out of words. And that was never a good sign.

Glancing back at his friend Bran grabbed the ring and shoved it into a pocket before heading towards the window unsure if he really wanted to see this. "For the love of-" Bran bit off the swear as he stared with wide eyes at the scene playing out beneath them at the front doors of the palace.

There were at least a dozen carriages filled with trunks and people. His own servants and family stood to the edge of the commotion staring as the Scum King's own servants ran about like madmen unloading the carriages and unpacking them right there on the front steps. They were constructing a tent of sorts but one that stretched from where the carriages stopped and all the way to the front doors. Instead of fabric draping over the structure they were nailing in wooden walls and a ceiling.

"She can't run the whole ten seconds it would take from the carriage to the door?" This time Bran didn't suppress a murmured swear. "So help me, I'm marrying a lunatic! Duncan!" He was unable to tear his eyes from the scene, but out of the corner of his eye he could see his friend shaking in laughter.

"Well," Duncan attempted to gain control of himself and clear his throat. "Look on the bright side. She won't spend a fortune on the gardens like your mother does." Bran shot him a look that once again had the servant doubled over in laughter.

They stayed by the windows watching until the structure was entirely built. A tunnel from the carriage door and all the way to the castle door. There was only a tiny gap between the carriage door and tunnel enough for them to catch a glimpse of a deep blue gown dart down from the carriage and into the tunnel. Then, presumably when the princess had made it safely inside, the servants began to dismantle the structure.

Bran was unable to watch the scene any longer and instead turned to collapse in a chair, his hand rubbing his eyes. This was a disaster. He was expecting the witch to show up any day now and give him a long overdue punishment for stealing her coins and his-soon-to-be-wife was recovering from her brief encounter with the outdoors. What had his life turned into? Perhaps this was all a dream. Maybe he'd wake up soon in fits of hysteria from this whole unbelievable predicament.

Duncan, also losing interest in the scene, returned to lounging lazily against the wall. "I wouldn't talk about the weather if I were you. Or the ride. Might upset her a tad."

Pulling the cushion from behind his back, Bran aimed it at his friend's head.

* * *

"But she is still recovering your highness!" A short, bald man was hurrying beside Bran as he made his way towards Lilyann's room. He was one of Lester's men and Bran found him only to be irritating.

"She has had the last few hours to recover. Surely, a few minutes in my presence shouldn't tax her too much?"

"But it was quite the ordeal-"

Bran smirked as he looked down at the man. "Yes. I'm sure it was." It sure looked like it. But that was no excuse. If they were to wed tomorrow then he wanted to meet his future wife before he walked down the aisle.

"Princess Lilyann rarely leaves the castle! Even a small excursion is-"

"I'm not asking her to lap the gardens with me. I just want to meet her. If she is to be my wife surely you would agree I should be introduced before we are at the alter?" Bran paused only a moment to look at the man who could only stunningly stare back. The man couldn't deny such logic, but he also wanted to still keep Bran away.

Turning again Bran was aware the man was still on his heels but he didn't say anything as Bran stepped up to his betrothed's door and knocked.

* * *

Lilyann stared at herself in the mirror, despite having made it safely back inside four sturdy stone walls hours ago she still felt as if she couldn't catch her breath. She had changed out of the dark blue gown she had practically ripped apart on the carriage ride from nerves and into a pale pink one. There were pearls everywhere on the carriage floor and tears in the blue skirts proving it. Her long blonde hair had been combed out by her maid and redone with a hot iron in curls after she had nervously ruined the intricate braids that had been done early this morning. She was a mess. This was why she never left. She always ended up feeling paranoid and skittish for days.

"My lady, I brought you a present." A tall man, older than her by at least ten years stepped closer to her with a string of tiny pearls. "There is still time to reconsider..." He laid them around her neck and closed the clasp, instantly she felt like she was choking.

Fighting the feeling down she tried to remind herself that a necklace wouldn't choke her. That Marcus wouldn't kill her. "They are lovely. And no, I don't have a choice. The alternative isn't something I would ever consider." Refusing to look at him, she fussed with the curls around her face.

"Ever?" Marcus settled his hands heavily on her shoulders and she felt his fingers digging in between her bones.

Not giving him the satisfaction of wincing she dropped her hands and met his cool, dark eyes square on in the mirror. "Never."

Instead of the spark of ire she had been hoping to see, a cool smile slid like a serpent over his lips. A serpent was exactly what he was. A sinister snake. "Careful, my lady. I have a feeling there is _someone_ you would reconsider for in a heartbeat..."

Stiffening she let the first flicker of fear flash momentarily in her eyes. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him."

"Did I? It's hard to remember all the details of our agreement. I am getting old..." But he was lying. He remembered everything just as she did.

"Which is precisely why I'm shouldn't marry you." She tried to stand but his hands tightened and he forced her back down. "I am young. I need a husband who can keep up with me."

Smirking he lowered his head to her shoulder and she could smell the pungent stench of his breath. "You need a man who can keep you under thumb and that," turning his head he buried his face into the crook of her neck and it took everything in her not to jerk away, "comes with age." He dragged his rough, cold lips up her neck and against her jaw. Lilyann watched disgusted in the mirror hating him more than she ever had. As he made it to the corner of her lips, her eyes closed and she braced herself for the slimy feel of his lips touching hers, but a knock on her door made him pause.

Lilyann's eyes snapped open and she made a mental note to thank every star in the sky tonight. Individually. Again she tried to stand but he forced her to remain where he was, not even moving his lips a hair's width from her skin.

"I gave orders for everyone to leave you. Dismiss them. Now."

All her life Marcus had been there controlling her family. But it was only in the past few years they had come to realize they were all pawns in his game. But unlike most of her family, Lilyann lacked the sense to be too afraid of him. Perhaps she felt safe in the fact he wanted her more than anything else and wouldn't harm her too terribly. And she hated being controlled. Too much of her life already was and she relished those moments where she could take the reins in her life back.

Marcus was smart enough not to push too far, but she knew if she dismissed whoever it was now, that he would push his lips to hers. That he would kiss her as many times as he pleased and force her to dance with him around the room since she never would at the parties and balls her father threw. The dancing was punishment. The kisses were reminders she belonged to him.

Raising her voice, she tried not to let the satisfaction of going against him fill her voice, "Come in."

Growling Marcus jumped away as the door opened and Lilyann was rewarded with the sight of watching him squirm a proper distance away and feign nonchalance. She would be punished for this later. He would threaten her. Abuse her with his words later until she was on the ground begging because he had the power to take from those who were innocent all because of her actions. But right then it was worth it. It was worth not having to endure more of his mouth against hers.


	3. Chapter 3

Bran didn't know what he was expecting. Perhaps a young woman who looked sickly from lack of sun. Or a princess with a pinched face since she seemed to be having so much trouble finding a suitor. Or maybe someone who looked deranged with their hair straggly and their wits gone. He had seen enough eccentrics in town to know that a manifestation of a lost mind was their eyes. And definitely a ladies maid to help. Not some...man.

Glancing at the man, he sent him a quizzical look before his eyes fell to the woman seated at her vanity. As their eyes met both parties had an obvious moment of surprise. Her, at seeing her betrothed. Him, at seeing everything he hadn't expected. She wasn't sickly. She was radiant. Her face wasn't pinched, but femininely delicately beautiful. Her hair shone and her eyes met his with a focus and brightness that hit him like a horse.

"My lord!" Despite the rush in her voice, Lilyann rose from her seat slowly and dipped into an equally leisurely curtsey. "I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow..." But there was something in her voice that sounded like relief.

It took Bran a full two seconds for his mind to register what she was saying. He was still wrapped up in how lovely the pale pink complimented her equally pale porcelain skin. Clearing his throat he mentally kicked himself and forced himself to meet her eyes. "I-I thought I would do us both a favor and get the introductions out of the way before we are wed." He offered her a smile and he again felt as if he wind was knocked out of him when she returned it. What was wrong with him? Had he really expected her to be so hideous?

"That was very thoughtful of you." She glanced over at the man and waved an arm at him. "This is my father's advisor, Marcus. He was just forcing me to realize how naïve I am." Her attention fell back on the prince knowing full well Marcus would hate the implication in her next words all the more. "I thought all castles have forty rooms. He tells me this isn't true."

Bran couldn't help but think this was a strange conversation for a princess to have and what would she care? Then again what else would she do when she stayed inside all the time. "I'm afraid he is right. There are closer to fifty rooms here if you count the dungeons and all of the servants quarters."

"Closer? You don't know the exact number?"

Bran shook his head with a grin. "I'm afraid I've never really counted."

She glanced at Marcus again and a look passed between the two than Bran couldn't read. "Then we shall have to remedy that immediately! Will you accompany me, my lord?"

Bran hesitated. "In...counting the number of rooms?"

"Of course! A future king and queen should know the number of rooms in their own castle! Just think if we were ever asked and didn't know! The embarrassment that would be subsequent-oh!" A hand flutter to her chest and while she seemed perfectly sincerely distressed, Bran couldn't help the feeling she was playing up to the fact that most thought her mad anyway.

Marcus spoke up for the first time with another glance at the princess, "I'm sure, His Majesty, has many more important tasks to get to than counting the rooms with you, dear. I will escort you." The endearment grated on Bran's nervous for reasons he couldn't explain. Maybe it was because the look accompanying it in the man's eye wasn't soft and fatherly, but rather still cool and commanding. And his tone was more suited towards a senseless child than a grown princess.

"No, that won't be necessary. I will walk with you, my lady. We can get to know each other better as we count." Aiming another smile at her he held up his arm to her. Counting the rooms was a bit peculiar but he wanted to see if the girl was as mad as he once believed.

Lilyann practically beamed at the prince and had only a small triumphant look out of the corner of her eye for Marcus before she all but skipped to the prince's side, taking his arm.

* * *

As they drifted down the hallways they idly chatted and Bran started to get the feeling that while she seemed intelligent, there was a sense of childlike innocence about her.

"Oh my, look at that!" Lilyann made them pause at yet another painting on the wall. This one was of a dragon battling a brave knight. "Have you ever seen a dragon?" She couldn't help but reach out and with a single finger run it over the scales on the dragons back as if she could really feel them.

Bran chuckled then caught the look on her face and quickly tried to stifle it. The girl thought they really existed! She really did spend her life in four walls! "They say the last dragon died hundreds of years ago. So, no. But there are tales of a kingdom to the East that has a graveyard of dragon bones!"

Turning to face him, Lilyann's face was lit up like a child's in wonder. "Really? Wouldn't that be remarkable to see! Jaws bigger than you or I! A ribcage as tall as a castle!"

Bran grinned and nodded. "Perhaps when we are married we shall have to try and find it."

The look on her face dimmed and she looked away from him, but nodded still. "Perhaps..." What an idiot he was. She didn't go out. She wouldn't have even left her own castle if he hadn't insisted she come here.

They continued to walk in silence for a short while, Bran feeling an increasingly crushing feeling of guilt for being so insensitive. "You know...there should be caves with dragon bones..."

She glanced up at him. "Caves?"

"Yes. I read they used to live in them, there's bound to be some who died protecting their eggs. How do you feel about caves?" Bran smiled down at her.

She hesitated as she thought about it before shrugging. "I've read about them. I supposed they would be interesting to explore. As long as bats didn't get stuck in my hair." Did that mean she would venture into a cave then? So long as it had a ceiling and walls to keep her from getting pulled up into the sky?

Laughing he shook his head. "My lady, it will be my honor to protect you from any rogue bat that even thinks of making home in your pretty hair."

With the air between them considerably lighter they continued on down the hallway chatting about dragons and bats and other miscellaneous things. Suddenly Lilyann stopped and looked up at him with a stiff, serious face, and eyes so piercing he felt as if she could read his very mind.

"Do you think I'm mad...because I won't go outside?" Despite the grave look she was giving him, her tone was light, nonchalant as if it really didn't matter what he thought.

Bran was thrown off both by the question and by the way she was acting. Hesitating he debated briefly telling her the truth and making up a pretty lie, but eventually he settled on the truth. If he was going to be married to her, lying seemed like a poor choice this early on. "I think...it's a shame you won't go out and smell the flowers and see the birds. You are missing so much of the world staying in these depressing walls. I've seen people who are mad in their minds and you, my lady, are not one of them. But it is mad if you haven't even tried."

She studied him for a brief moment before she started walking again. The expression relaxed from her face and she glanced once more around them, taking in yet more stone, paintings, and vases. "I smell flowers." Pausing at a vase she sent him a smirk as she dipped her head and sniffed at a rose. "And I see the birds," she waved at a window, "just fine from in here. Why do I need to go out to do these things?"

"You will never see that rose as it should be in a garden surrounded by hundreds of other flowers. The smell of all of them mingling together under the sun...you can't smell that in a vase." Bran glanced out the window and watched a robin perch on the sill. "You will never see the hummingbirds that are so shy and quick you only catch glimpses when they are by certain flowers you can not see from the windows. Or the sea birds you will only see when by the water."

"Why should I care about the smell of flowers or birds? What importance are they in running a kingdom?" The words together sounded harsher than her tone. She wasn't trying to argue, she simply wanted a good explanation. Probably a reason to fight her fear.

"If you won't go out to smell the flowers or see the birds...why would you go out and walk the crowded markets with your people? And what will you know of the world if you don't educate yourself on things that seem trivial, but can, in my mother's eyes, with a well picked flower stop wars. Form alliances." Bran watched the bird take back off, flying to where ever it felt like going. Doing what ever it felt like doing. He wanted to be a bird. "Besides, there is so much to see and do outside of these walls. You can't tell me it doesn't get boring being in these walls all the time."

Lilyann was quiet for a few long moments before she shrugged. "I've been inside all my life...I know little else. Besides," she smiled up at him, "these are different walls. The sights out these windows aren't the marshlands."

Bran chuckled and shook his head. "No, I suppose they aren't. But you really will spend your life only knowing these walls and the walls of your home in the marshlands?"

"Will you force me otherwise?"

Drawing away from her Bran sent her an appalled look. "My lady, I will not force you to do anything. It is your choice to remain in here like a cage bird, but," softening, his eyes gentled as he looked down at her. "I plan on enjoying both your kingdom and mine outside of these four walls and I would enjoy having my wife by my side instead of writing letters to her each night while she double checks and counts the rooms all over again."

She was quiet for longer this time as she thought over his words before she eventually spoke again, not looking at him. "I suppose you will have to buy a large supply of paper and ink." But there was a tinge of regret and disappointment in even her own voice.

"You will not even try...?"

Lilyann glance up at him and for a moment he saw a guard drop within her. She looked so terribly sad and crestfallen, without a single hope. "I can not even try." Then she looked away and seemed to regain herself. "You said there was a library? Perhaps you could show me. I do love to read..."

Bran hesitated wanting to understand what had just happened. What she meant, but instead he nodded and led her in the right direction.

* * *

Not a moment after Lilyann shut the door with a book in her arm and a smile from her betrothed's sweet good bye that she felt him come up behind her and pin her against the wall the moment she turned toward him.

"Well, look at that little smile..." The dim firelight from the fireplace did little but cast terrifying shadows on his face.

Lifting her chin Lilyann tried to ignore the bite of his fingers in her arms or the smell of his breath.

"How quickly you seem to forget about your little plaything at home...does this mean I can-"

Stiffening Lilyann levelled a glare, "You swore you wouldn't-"

"You mentioned that earlier. But you're going to be married here. What use do you have-"

"It doesn't matter. You agreed."

"Mm, I don't remember such an agreement," lowering his head he brushed him lips against her neck.

Trying her best to ignore the sick feeling growing her stomach her eyes focused on the fire over his head. "Perhaps, then, I don't remember the agreement I made you if this does not work out tomorrow."

That got his attention, shaking her violently, her head slammed against the wall before he grabbed her jaw within his hands. His fingers dug into the fragile skin doing as much damage as he could without inflicting a bruise or breaking skin. "Are you threatening me, my flower?"

Grunting Lilyann's head swam and for moment he watched three Marcus' leer at her instead of one. She refused to answer. She was so sick of this and so foolish. How many times had her father warned her to just play by his rules? To just submit and do whatever Marcus wanted? But she couldn't.

"Answer me!" This time he used his grip on her jaw to slam her head back against the wall, knowing precisely how hard to hit her without knocking her out or causing any visible damage.

Groaning Lilyann briefly closed her eyes. "No." The word was a half strangled sound. She hated giving in. She hated him.

"No, what?" He drew her head forward again, but waited to for her compliance instead of following through. "Your mother was defiant too...such a waste of a succulent blossom..."

Her head felt like it was swimming. Her stomach was churning. Tomorrow she would be married. And Marcus would control two kingdoms. The only reason he had relented in letting his precious flower marry another. But she wouldn't ever be free. Her husband may be another, but he would always think she belonged to him. "No, my love."

Gently, almost tenderly, he pushed her head back against the wall and released her jaw, replacing his harsh fingers instead with his slimy lips. He pressed a trail of kisses along her jaw and up to her lips. The whole time Lilyann fought to keep whatever was in her stomach down. Crushing his lips against hers, he kissed her roughly and possessively. "Oh, my flower," he whispered against her lips as he pulled her away from the wall and against him. "Perhaps we will have to eventually get rid of that soon-to-be husband of yours too...after we have his kingdom under our thumb of course..."

Lilyann didn't respond knowing full well if she did he would only shove her against the wall again and she was sure that she would black out if he did it again. Although it was a tempting idea with his lips moving against hers. He would be furious when she woke up. She would miss dinner and that would cause a scene. And she would miss their dance. She knew his consequences if they missed a dance. He would find another dance partner. He would take another life because of her.

As if on cue, Marcus drew back with a half crazed smile on his lips as he gathered her into position. "Dance with me, my flower?"

Lilyann numbly nodded. "Yes, my love." Like a puppet on strings he twirled her around the room, forcing her into a dance that she had been trapped in for as long as she could remember. She could fight it. Many times she had. But in the end she always wound up back on her strings. Trapped.


	4. Chapter 4

"Let's do her hair in curls!"

"In braids!"

"The pink ribbons or white?"

"White! It's her wedding day!"

"Can you tie this tighter? She needs a perfect figure for today!"

"Oh, look how pretty she is!"

"An angel!"

"Beautiful!"

Lilyann just stood there as a whirlwind of people pricked, tugged, and did whatever they pleased to her in preparing her for the wedding ceremony. She barely registered any of the faces, instead she was withdrawn into her own mind trying to figure out if there was something she could have done. If there was a way to get out of this. If there was a way to have prevented it in the first place.

A seamstress with fiery red hair stopped before her. Lilyann barely recognized her as the girl everyone seemed to be talking about lately. Hannah. Her designs were the height of fashion and her shop was right there in Bran's kingdom. Lilyann knew she should be thrilled to not only meet her but to be wearing a gown sewn by Hannah herself and not one of her other seamstresses. But she could only muster a smile at the girl as she praised Lilyann's appearance and showered her with well wishes. She murmured her thanks before the girl disappeared to see to the rest of the wedding party.

Lily felt like a shell. Physically she was in the room, but mentally she was anywhere else. Not even the chance of meeting her favorite seamstress could pull her out of the immense defeat she felt.

Suddenly Marcus' face was before her with a broad sneer. "You should be my wife today." He may have said more but she didn't listen. Instead she just stood there. Staring. Waiting for it to end and begin.

* * *

Bran adjusted the crown on his head in the mirror before turning towards Duncan. Everyone else had been dismissed. "She's different than I thought she'd be."

Dun raised his eyebrows. "More like a peacock then a chicken?"

Bran ignored the quip. "She's smart and I don't think she's crazy. She just seems..." He shrugged helplessly as he couldn't find the word he wanted.

His friend picked at something under his nails. "Like she escaped from the asylum?"

"I just said she doesn't seem all that mad."

"I heard you, but she won't leave the castle...how normal can she be?"

Bran shook his head. "You don't understand. It's not that she's mad, it's more like she's...trapped. You should have heard her...seen her when we were talking about it."

"Did you know a Mockingbird can sing like a Wren?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying a Mockingbird can sing like a Wren, but when you look at it, it is still a Mockingbird. Bran...her mind is unstable. Don't get hurt trusting her..."

Looking away Bran turned towards the window and watched a pair of robins settle into a patch of daisies. "Leave me, Duncan. I need a moment of peace before the madness begins."

Duncan came up beside his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I don't want to see your heartbroken again like it was after Clara. Perhaps our frog princess will turn out to be a butterfly, but be careful, my friend." Bran offered him a smile of thanks before the man disappeared out the door.

Releasing a breath as soon as the door closed, he relaxed against the wall near the window, still watching the birds peck for seeds. He didn't know what he was doing. Perhaps this was a mistake. Maybe the princess was mad. Maybe the kingdom would be better off without her, her land, and her money. Rubbing a hand over his face, Bran could feel a headache coming on.

"Tired, my prince?"

Bran's head jerked up to see a familiar woman with braided black hair and unpleasantly memorable simple patched peasant skirts standing near the door. She appeared only a little older than himself, but he had a suspicion even that was just a trick. He hadn't even heard the door open, but then she wouldn't have needed to open the door anyway.

His heart sank as he looked at her. Of all the days for her to come for him, this would, of course, be the day she picked. "More than you can probably imagine."

"Oh, I doubt that." She smiled not unkindly and began to lap the room. She ran her fingers over the fine wooden dresser and stared around at the expensive trinkets he had, inspecting his life. "Is this where my money went?"

Bran was stone still as he watched her walk. "No. I've told you-" Bran probably should have felt angry or scared, but all he could feel was a twinge of relief. At least for a little while he would be free of his responsibilities. A moment later with that thought came a crushing feeling of guilt.

"Oh, that's right, the ships. Of course. How _noble_ of you." She looked innocent enough, but Bran knew better than to trust her. "That was some trick you played with Clara..."

Stiffening he watched her take a turn about the room trying to feign indifference. "I'm not sure I under-"

"Yes you do!" Her eyes flew to them, momentarily filling with rage before she just as suddenly relaxed. "Just as she was falling in love with Ian, you drag her here. You propose to her. You almost killed Ian."

That surprised him and he raised his eyebrows. What did she care what happened to Ian. It was only her coins that she cared about.

"You almost ruined everything. I had to go to the in-between and bargain with Death over what you did." Her voice was calm and even as she spoke as if she was bored with him. As if she really wasn't upset by all the trouble he had caused her. It was making him feel somewhat off balance.

"You bargained with Death?" Somehow he couldn't picture her being so kind.

"Of course. You know as well as I, Ian did not deserve that curse. And I made a promise he would return to his former self when she admitted her love. A promise I almost failed to keep, thanks to you. Had Clara arrived any later Ian would have died." Running her fingers along his bedspread she paused and looked up at him. "How does it feel knowing you almost killed your friend?" She hesitated her almost black eyes piercing into his, but hardly gave him long enough to respond before she waved a hand. "But no matter, it is time you paid for your crime."

"It's my wedding day."

A smile slowly worked it's way over her lips. "Yes. And you love her about as much as she loves you."

Straightening Bran watched as she walked slowly over to him as if to taunt him. "What are you going to do to me?"

Laughing almost manically she shrugged. "Oh. I don't know...I quite like the nickname your friend gave you...Frog Prince."

"How do you know about that?"

She didn't say a word, simply smiled in a knowing way as she stopped before him.

"Same terms as Ian? Love will break the spell or the coins?"

"No. You have to bring my coins back."

"But they could be anywhere! I could spend my entire life searching and never find them!"

"Hm." She raised her chin as she studied him. Her breathing all but stopping as she stood stone still, simply staring into him. Those almost black eyes staring straight into his as if she could read his soul. And maybe she really could.

As the silence stretched on Bran noticed for the first time despite how much he hated her, she was quite beautiful. In a dark, enigmatic way. Finally she drew in a soft breath. "Shall we test your honor again then? True love's kiss will break your spell or my coins. But I warn you. If you find a girl to truly love you and not my coins I will come back and make your children pay. Someone will pay for your crime until they are returned to me. No matter how long it takes." Stopping for a moment, she considered him. "I'd like to see the young woman who will kiss a frog anyway."

Any relief he might have felt earlier was gone now as the reality of what was about to happen to him, settled down on him like a heavy cloak. "Let me apologize to my bride. Call off the wedding-"

"No. I will turn you now. You've had long enough to tell everyone and you chose not to let it be known what a coward you are." She raised her arms as Bran held up his hands.

He had no idea where to start looking for the coins. In the past months he dedicated all his time to finding a wife, certain that would keep him from paying for what he had stolen. But now he saw what a fool he was. She would never have let him get away and if he wasn't such a coward he would have done the right thing years ago. "Wait! Please! Give me a clue where to find them! I know you know where they are! Please! I want to make things right!" The desperation on his face and voice must have found some string of humanity in her because she hesitated.

"Where the dead are alive you will find the coins." And that was the last thing Bran heard. Her face was the last thing he saw before the darkness took over.

((Well that was a long stretch of no new chapters, wasn't it? I'm sorry. Life happened, muse disappeared, and the plot of this just wasn't sorted out properly and working, but all of those things are back on track and I've been working my best to stay ahead of the story again. So fingers crossed I can once again do a chapter every few days or so. Like I said, fingers crossed. :) THANK YOU for reading and maybe commenting? Haha. :) And thank you to those who have hopefully stuck around and for new readers! I appreciate you all. :) ))


	5. Chapter 5

Bran felt hot and sticky and sore. Groaning he pushed himself off the ground and sat back. Blinking he could feel the warm sun on his back and hear the sounds of nature around him. Where was he?

The world around him was a fuzzy blur of greens, browns, and whites. Bringing his hands up he rubbed at his eyes but instead of smooth skin his fingers slipped over two protruding bumps. Pulling his hands back he stared down at four green finger like things that were not his hands. Panicking he looked down at the rest of him himself only to find a smooth pale green belly and legs that were more like a frog's then his own. With a shout he tried to stand but found he couldn't balance and toppled backward into water.

As the water rushed over his head, he felt himself sinking and he tried to take a terrified breath of air only to have his lungs fill with water. Struggling he wriggled and flung his limbs uncoordinatedly about. This body didn't move like a humans and for all his efforts he continued to sink like a rock in the murky pond water.

Then just as suddenly he heard a crash through the surface of the water above him and he was yanked out of the pond disoriented and confused, he sputtered and coughed the water out of his lungs and when he was finally able to open his eyes again he watched the trees fly past him as whatever had him took him higher and higher into the air. Looking up he saw the feathers of a large white bird.

Didn't birds eat frogs?! Terrified and not thinking he once again began to struggle and flail about. "Let me go! Stop!" The bird suddenly changed directions and Bran couldn't help but still his struggles as he felt his stomach jump to his throat at the sudden plummet. Could frogs throw up? Because he was sure he was about to...

The bird pulled back at the last moment before they hit the ground and unceremoniously dropped him into a patch of clover. Bran collapsed knowing he should run and get away but his head was spinning. And his whole body felt weak after the adventure that was the last few minutes. Groaning he rolled onto his back, deciding if the bird was going to eat him, might as well just let it. He didn't have much to live for anyway. He wouldn't find the coins as a frog and he certainly didn't want to spend the rest of his life like this.

The bird let out a long shrill note and Bran let his eyes slide shut as he waited for a harsh stab of it's beak in his belly.

"For wind's sake, do you have to be so shrill, Talon." There was a rattle of leaves and bushes.

"Well, last time you didn't even hear me."

"Last time you brought a fish."

"It was a perfectly good fish!"

"I don't eat fish!"

"If you don't like the dinner I bring you can-"

"You brought a frog?!"

"The frog isn't to eat!"

"It better well not be!"

Bran laid there with his eyes squeezed shut, listening to the whole argument. He hadn't yet seen what the more feminine voice was quite yet, but at this point he wasn't quite sure he wanted to. Would it be something else that wanted to eat him? It sounded like neither of them wanted to eat him. But what else would a bird take him for? Turning his head he slowly opened his eyes to see a dull brown-green frog staring up at the bird and managing to look none too happy.

"Why did you bring him then?"

"He's one of us." The frustration in the bird's voice had calmed slightly. "I was looking for berries when he popped out of thin air. He was looking at himself like he didn't know what he was before he nearly drowned in the pond. Figured I'd bring him here."

"Figured. Hah! What if he's another one of _them c_ome to trick us?"

"You think they'd do that?"

"You think they wouldn't?"

Bran was having a hard time following the conversation. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind around that a bird and a frog were having a conversation. He was having a hard time understanding how he could understand what a bird and frog were saying in the first place!

"Oy! You! Are you another one of them magic people?" The bird's beak was suddenly in Bran's view and twin beady eyes stared into his.

"You think he's going to tell us?"

"You don't think he'd tell us?" The bird raised his head slightly to turn towards the brown-green frog.

"Half your brain must have got left behind when you got changed."

Bran blinked slowly and glanced from one to the other before finally cutting in. "Changed? You two were...changed?"

"Oh see! Now you've gone and done it! Given us away!" The frog hopped closer beside the bird and stared down at Bran as well. The bird now seemed to be the friendlier, less intimidating member of the duo. The frog...well...Bran wasn't so sure about her. "I know how to make a good frog leg stew, boy. I don't care what I look like to you, don't think I won't chop your legs off!"

"Now, my dumpling, don't get your beautifully long tongue tied in a knot. We don't know if he's really one of them. We don't want to be rude-"

"Rude! You're the one shrieking all the time! And bringing me back food I can't eat!"

The bird looked about ready to open his beak and start another long winded argument when Bran decided to roll back on his stomach. He didn't understand these two and he wasn't sure he really wanted to stick around with the prospects of being a bird's dinner or becoming frog stew.

"Not so fast, fried legs!"

Before Bran had a chance to test out how to move in his new body he felt something latch around his legs. Looking down he saw the frog hanging onto him.

"We got a couple questions for you."

"Do we?" The bird tilted his head and stared down at his companion before looking to Bran.

"Yes." Hopping around him the frog came practically nose to nose with him. "What's your name?"

"Bran..."

"And what are you doing in our forest, Bran?"

Hesitating he stared at the frog before and debated what to say. She didn't seem to willing to talk about her own reasons for being the forest, perhaps he should be more careful with who he told his. "This was where I ended up. How are you here? You mentioned being changed..."

The frog sent the bird a nasty, accusing look. "Maybe I did."

"Changed from what?"

"How did you end up here?"

Hesitating again, Bran glanced at the bird. "I suppose I may have been changed too."

"Oh? How'd that happen?"

"I...took something that wasn't mine. And you?"

"Great. You brought home a criminal, Talon."

"I answered your questions, you need to answer some of mine." Bran was getting tired of this one sided conversation. He was barely understanding anything that was happening. Perhaps he was the one really going mad.

"A magic man turned us."

"Talon!"

"A...magic man?" Bran wasn't sure he'd heard that term before.

"I guess he was sorta like a witch wasn't he, Madge? But he drew his powers from a crystal." The bird glanced at the frog who was covering her face in horror.

"Great, tell him everything, Talon! Tell the strange frog thief everything!"

Bran hadn't a clue what the harm could be in telling about the curse, but then apparently he didn't know as much about curses as at least the frog seemed to. "Why?"

"Well that's none of your business!" Madge shot Talon a dark look as he opened his beak about to speak yet again. "Bran, is it? That name's awful familiar..." Lifting her chin, she regarded him coolly as she searched her memory for the name. "What was that prince's name, Talon? The one's who's kingdom ain't got barely a chicken in the whole kingdom."

The bird hesitated a moment, tilting his head as he thought. "I thought it was Brandon..."

"You aren't that prince are you? Trying to trick us with a name?"

Bran wasn't sure what to say. There had to be a reason why Talon and Madge were being so secretive about who they were. Maybe he should be the same. "You are very guarded about what you tell me. Why should I tell you everything about myself? Besides that how could a prince be a frog?"

The frog raised her chin and gave him a hard look. "You can't be too trusting here. Not everything is as it seems."

Bran tried to pull his leg out of her grasp. "Well, that much is obvious." He sighed as Madge just held onto him tighter. She wasn't going to give in at all until she figured him out. That much was obvious. "Look. I'm not even sure I know how to get around on these legs yet let alone anything else. If I was a magic man or witch why would I change myself into something I didn't know how to...do anything in?"

"Maybe you're a stupid witch."

Bran rolled his eyes. "Well then you've got nothing to worry about do you if I'm a stupid witch?"

"Stupid doesn't mean harmless."

"You're never going to believe I word I say, are you?" This was getting exhausting. He needed to be moving on. If he was going to be stuck as a frog then he might as well get a start on moving around and at least attempting to find those coins.

"You won't even tell us who you are." Madge shot back but at least she finally released his leg. Crossing her arms she continued to stare down at him expectedly. "And how you got here."

"I told you-" Bran could hear the annoyance building in his voice and watched as Madge's own face continued to harden. Sighing he straightened himself up and shuffled his legs clumsily as he tried to turn to face her. Fine. He'd give her the truth and she could take it as she wanted. "My name is Brandon. Yes," he glanced at Talon, "I am that prince. A witch turned me into this because I stole from her years ago. Until I find those coins I'm stuck like this more or less."

They both stared at him for a few long moments. "I knew it! I knew it, Madge! He's a prince! Your majesty my name is George Talon. I have visited your kingdom a handful of times delivering bolts of fine fabric! And may I say it was a wonderful place? And this here is my wife Madge. She may be a frog now, but I dare say she was-is-was-um quite a lovely human. Not that you aren't the prettiest frog in the pond now, Madgie-pie." The bird spoke about a mile a minute and he only paused for a brief moment to take a sharp intake of air.

"She ran the scrumptiousiest pastry shop. Heaven knows, by the way, how I stayed so bony after all these years of her delicious tarts and pies. Oh, but anyway," He lowered himself down to lay beside his wife who was staring at him as if he had lost his head. "We were travelling a few weeks back now, or has it been months now, Madge? It doesn't matter. We were going to into the woods to cut down some more wood and Madge was hunting for berries. Well we got caught in a storm, terrible one. Trees were coming down, lightning was striking next to us. Awful storm. We stumbled upon a cave. Worst mistake. The magic man was in there and he was furious we came barging in. Turned his into, well, what you see almost instantaneously. Awful man, wasn't he Madge?"

The lengthy story was told in a matter of a half minute as the bird managed to talk about a mile a minute. Bran wasn't so sure what he really got out of all the words besides something about a storm, cave, and magic man.

Madge sent him a disbelieving glare before turning back to Bran. "And how do we believe you? Anyone could say they were the prince."

Bran shook his head. "You either believe me or you don't. It doesn't really matter. I should get going I need to get started looking for those coins." Turning Bran tried telling his legs to hop but his momentum was to great and his front arms...legs...whatever never moved. His back end flew up and over his head and he landed with a dull thud on his back.

"How do you plan on finding those coins if you can't even hop? Really. You have about as much of a brain as Talon apparently." Madge's froggy face was suddenly over him.

Groaning Bran managed to roll over and right himself. "I'm working on it. I told you I didn't know what I was doing."

"It's more of a coordinated movement. You have to push off with all four limbs at once. However, the more strength you put in your back legs the farther you will go."

"So, you're going to help me now?"

Madge huffed and raised her head stubbornly. "Well, if you really are a prince I suppose we'd been in for some sort of reward if we helped you."

Bran's eyes widened as he looked at her before he chuckled. "You sound pretty trustworthy yourself now."

"Watch it, frog theif! You can figure out how to survive as a frog by yourself if you want." She hesitated. "Besides we could use another pair of eyes. There are many predators for us out here. Suppose it wouldn't sit well knowing you hopped off alone to be eaten by who knows what."

Bran unconsciously glanced around them and for the first time realized just how small he really was compared to the tall clover and monstrous trees. "A decent reward would be quite fitting if we become human again."

With that settled Madge pushed his back feet into position. "You better learn how to hop fast. There's no telling when another cat will wander this way." Bran began practicing how to move around in his new body with Madge's advice and Talon's constant erratic comments. He was clumsy at first and it took him quite sometime to coordinate all of his limbs but eventually he slowly started to figure it out and not land on his back so often.

"You know, I can't reward you until I find the coins." Bran watched a pair of dragon flies flutter about. The trio were resting under a bush as the sun started to set.

"Hm." Madge didn't sound too happy at the reminder.

"We'll help you! Won't we, Madge? We aren't doing anything. And maybe your witch can turn us back!" Talon nudged his wife with his beak who glared at him. Really. Bran couldn't understand the pair. Madge was far too cranky and Talon was happier than a new puppy.

Bran didn't think the witch would help Madge or Talon even if they did find the coins, but Bran wasn't about to admit that. He needed all the help he could get. Besides from their short conversations these two had already figured out how to survive in their new forms. Bran could use their survival instincts. And it wouldn't hurt to have an extra couple pairs of eyes and a pair of wings to help him find the coins. Maybe it would only take half of forever with them instead of all of forever to find them.

"I don't know. I suppose. I do miss baking. And I suppose your witch is the best chance we currently have." Madge eyed Bran out of the corner of her eye. She still didn't trust him. But then she still barely knew him. Maybe in time she would lighten up. Or maybe not. Maybe that was part of her personality. And maybe out here that wasn't such a bad thing. "I'm hungry. Come on, Frog Prince. You need to learn how to use your tongue."

"My...tongue?" Bran sat up and followed Madge out who suddenly had a surprising grin and twinkle in her eye.

"How else do you think we catch those delicious fireflies?"


End file.
